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This week’s Wordsmith Wednesday comes from the song “Cut From the Cloth” by The Evens.

It goes:

“Cut from the cloth, and cut quite severely
Is this my world I no longer recognize
I’m hearing common words, common expressions
But nothing is common in my eyes”

With the world changing dramatically and traumatically over the last handful of weeks, so much that we have always conceived of as familiar is no longer the same to us. Friends and family being pushed out of their homes, people fearing for their lives, and others entirely unsure of what their future, if there is one, in this country holds anymore. And yet there are still those who are pleased with the outcome, pleased with what will inevitably be their own demise.

At times it feels as if we have only been viewing the world through rose-colored glasses and have finally taken them off, leading to the realization that everything we thought we knew about the world, the people of the world, what we thought everyone believed in, is no longer true. In 2006, The Evens were able to articulate the exact disbelief we feel. Simply put, MacKaye and Farina’s lyrics resonate with the lack of familiarity that surrounds us every day now.

The words we’re highlighting this week are from Mississippi John Hurt’s song “Frankie” recorded in 1928.

The words are:

“He’s my man and he done me wrong”

The ominous directness this line exemplifies some of the beautiful power of the blues. The use of variations of this line as a refrain throughout a song about the murder of a cheating man serves to tease out truth so deep and black you can’t help but reach your hand into it. This is a declaration assumedly as ancient as human relationships.This is love, betrayal, and justice all wrapped up into an honest, simple package that anyone ever burned by a partner can understand. This is a reminder to treat your lover with respect or the judge, whether secular or in the sky, may find them justified for putting you down in the smoke of their gun.

This week’s words come from Jewel’s song “Daddy” off her 1994 album Pieces Of You.

The lyrics are:

“My bones are tired, Daddy
I don’t get enough sleep
I don’t eat as good as I should, Daddy
What’s that say about me?
Sometimes I sleep past noon, Daddy
Drink lots of black coffee and I smoke like a chimney
Yes, I left the refrigerator door half open, Daddy
What’s that say about me?
Sometimes I want to rip out your throat, Daddy
For all those things you said that were mean
Gonna make you just as vunerable as I was, Daddy
What’s that say about me?
Sometimes I want to bash in your teeth, Daddy
Gonna use your tongue as a stamp
Gonna rip your heart out the way you did mine, Daddy
Go ahead and psycho-analyse it
‘Cause I’m your creation, I’m your love, Daddy
Grew up to be and do all those sick things you said I’d do
Well last night I saw you sneak out your window
With your white hood, Daddy
What’s that say about you?
I’m sloppy, what’s that say about you?
I’m messy, what’s that say about you?
My bones are tired, Daddy”

I remember listening to this record on big, red leather headphones on my dad’s old receiver at my childhood house in Tinley Park. As a child, I didn’t quite understand the implications of child abuse but I could tell by the delivery and repetitive questioning that these lines were meant as provocations against a mean, white supremacist parent. Jewel’s technique of holding a monologic conversation with a manipulative father gradually unpacks her insecurities, assumedly enforced by psychological/emotional abuse, but flips that insecurity into pointed contempt as the song unfolds. Through this trick, she owns her brokenness and exposes the cracks in the force determined to break her. This album opened me up to a variety of new perspectives and emotions as a boy, but this song still stands as a statement of strength that can be forged from pain, a righteous spit in the face of the ignorant oppressor/abuser. Keep spitting.

Our words this week come from Cloud Nothings’ song “Wasted Days” off their 2012 album Attack on Memory.

The lyrics are:

“I thought/
I would/
Be more/
Than this”

The simplicity and directness of Dylan Baldi’s words (and delivery) always force me to stare them in the face. Repeated with increasing intensity in the song, these words creep in and wrap themselves around your face, pushing in parts of your skull you thought were solid but still have some infantile give to them. I feel these words in the words and eyes of the people around me at work, at shows, in the grocery store. I’ve looked out my kitchen window many times in the past couple of years with these words spinning in my mind, both in my own voice and Baldi’s. Complacency has always scared me. I’m ever unsatisfied, often unable to take pleasure in any present personal crest because I’m standing in the shadow of the next summit. While I’m disappointed or depressed some days, it’s usually not of any tangible failure, but rather a nagging need to do more, to be more. This mindset may burn me out or it may keep me trudging forward in search of new fixes of fulfillment. Either way, I’m sure I have many more hours standing in front of windows with these words winding around in my head.

This week’s Wordsmith Wednesday is one from Tom Waits’ “Dirt in the Ground.”

It reads:

“The quill from a buzzard
the blood writes the word
I want to know am I the sky
Or a bird
‘Cause hell is boiling over
and heaven is full
We’re chained to the world
And we all gotta pull
And we’re all gonna be
Just dirt in the ground”

Paired with Waits’ pained, warbly, and rough voice, his words take on the existential questions that we, as humans, think about daily. What will become of us? What will be left? And what will we have to show? Waits attempts to answer the physicality aspect of these questions: “we’re all gonna be just dirt in the ground.” He touches on the point of the soul and where it leaves to, but dismisses its importance, rearing himself back to the point that no matter who we are or what we have done we will always end up being just dirt in the ground. Waits’ powerful message and distinctive voice reminds us to stay grounded and focused on what we have and what we know for certain will become of us when our last breath is taken.